Live Forever
by L Ducky
Summary: How all 8 will live forever. Full summary inside, its too long to put here. rating for drug use. Might put minor characters later.


**Live Forever**

**Okay, I don't know why, but there's a line of a fanfic that I read once… Angel writing a letter to Mark about keeping the group together… and she was writing about each of the group members individually. (I don't remember whom it is by, but a huuuuuge thank-you goes out to them!) The one line that really stuck with me was something like "Maureen… that girl is gonna live forever." It got me thinking and I thought of a way for every character to live forever.**

**These are all preRENT.**

**Don't own RENT**

Maureen

Every school show I do, I stay behind in the auditorium even after opening night. It's just a tradition. I stay after, and I ponder. What can I do better? Would my character think the same as I do? How can I play with the stage area? What _more_ can I do?

Tonight, I stayed behind thinking "that was truly a great show." I played the 21-year-old collage girl, and several audience members came up to me and said, "I can't believe you're only fifteen!"

My legs are dangling off the edge of the stage looking helpless.

I plant them on the stage, stand up straight, and shout the first thing that comes to my mind,

"I'M GONNA LIVE FOREVER!"

And it's true. I am.

I'll make sure of it.

Joanne

I always want to help people. I want to make sure they get what they deserve, good or bad. Rape victims, murder suspects, whatever. I wanted to help them.

But there was one girl who I remember.

And I'm sure she remembers me.

Because her case was an unusual one. Her credit card had been used to buy shrooms that were re-sold to her boyfriend. He them took the credit card to buy more, and she used to it buy a bottle of wine for dinner, and things got complicated. She told me that I was the only lawyer that would take on the case and untangle the knot.

"I hope you stay a lawyer for a long time, Ms. Jefferson. You're gonna live forever if you do," she told me on the last day of the trial.

And I believe her.

Angel

I come home from school every day to take care of my little sister. She always looked up to me, but one day she asked,

"Angel, why do you take care of me every day?"

"Because Mama has to work." I explain.

"No, Angel. Why do you have to _take care_ of me every day? Why can't I _take care_ of myself?"

"Because I'm older than you, honey. That's why."

"What does that mean?"

I was confused. "What does what mean?"

"What does it mean that you're older than me?"

"Well," I begin. "It means I've been alive for longer than you."

"But that means you're going to die before me, though." Her logic was so simple. How do you explain to your little sister about AIDS?

"Yes, girly. But," I crossed my fingers, "we have a long time before that. Don't worry."

"Can we play checkers now, Angel?" Checkers is her favorite game. She's pretty good at it, too.

"Sure. I'll set it up."

"I call red!"

After the game (she won, but I let her) I was tucking my little sister into bed when she said,

"Angel?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want you to die. I want you to live forever."

"Okay, honey. I will." Her little eyelids closed as I softly said,

"I'll live forever… just for you."

Benny

My parents loved learning about places and people. Whenever we took a tour of anywhere we always heard a name or two of "This building is dedicated too…" or "This office was donated by…" or "in loving memory of…" and then there was an important-sounding name. Those names live forever. In one of the many museums of technology, my dads name was on a plaque in the front, "This building was designed by Benjamin Coffin Jr." my architect dad died before he ever got to meet Allison or her parents, so he never knew I married. I hardly ever visit his grave, because I am busy trying to put my name on one of those plaques.

I'm trying to live forever.

Collins

All through school, I was very well-liked by my teachers. Don't get me wrong, I was never teacher's pet, but I turned my work in, I was creative, and I didn't suck up. But, no matter how many teachers loved having Tom Collins in their classroom, I only enjoyed being in one – Mrs. Levizzo's. She never played favorites; she gave very fair grades, and tried to include everyone as much as possible. She was one of the youngest teachers on staff, and one of the only broad-minded ones. After my close friends, she was one of the first people to know that I'm gay.

When that got spread around the school, most of the teachers stopped liking me as much. I did the same quality work, if not better, and I was still the same Tom Collins, but teachers like Mr. Benner and Ms. Gopt, who used to give me A- as my worst grade, were suddenly giving me C's and D's because "My work is not acceptable." I couldn't go to my parents because they didn't know I was gay, and I didn't really want to tell them, so I went to Mrs. Levizzo. I didn't cry. I just showed her a recent project and a past project along with the grades, and asked if she thought it was graded fairly. She agreed with me and together we went to the principal.

To make a long story short, it worked. The school talked to the unjust teachers and they admitted that it was only because I was gay. They were forced to be observed in their classrooms during classes to make sure it wouldn't happen again.

I think Mrs. Levizzo passed away, but I'm not sure. We lost touch after my sophomore year of collage, but I know that she will live forever in my memory. As cheesy as that sounds, it's true.

And that's why I am a teacher. Because I am going to live forever.

Mimi

After signing up at the Cat Scratch, all I was thinking was _this shouldn't be too hard, I'm just dancing. I've been to dances… I just have to move to the music. Simple._

Boy, was I wrong. After my first week of the two-month training, I was wiped out and ready for the weekend.

The weekend came and went in a matter of five seconds. I was walking back home, practically crying when a strange man came up to me. We were right next to the apartments with the loft, and I knew people there, so I figured if I screamed, they would hear me. The walls were paper-thin.

"Don't scream," were the first words. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then why are you trying to talk to me?" I demanded.

"You looked down in the dumps, and I want to show you something that will make you feel on top of the world." He handed me a small plastic pouch of white powder and a needle.

"Here, let me show you how…"

A few short minutes later, I was dancing around my apartment thinking that I was going to live forever. And for that moment, I was.

Roger

The Well Hungarians had their fist gig in a small bar near the Life. I was in front center, where I always loved to be, singing my heart out with the words Tim and I had written. Tim was right beside me, singing where the backup was needed and playing his black and blue guitar. I looked down at my hands playing the yellow Fender and smiled. They were moving from muscle memory – I didn't even have to think. I could just enjoy the feeling of all the people looking at me, cheering me on. I was their true star, and I was going to live forever.

Mark

I film my friends so that they are permanently imprinted on the thin celluloid.

I film them so they live forever.


End file.
